


well, someone oughta remind you

by Stopwatch



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Character Study, Reincarnation, no official warnings but sally hemings so, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stopwatch/pseuds/Stopwatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thomas Jefferson is reincarnated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	well, someone oughta remind you

Nathan didn't know what he had done to deserve this. Admittedly, he should have realised what was going on earlier.

Some hints: The déjà vu so strong it somehow induced headaches whenever he so much glanced at Emeka; the fact he could suddenly understand the Italian couple next door when he hadn't been able to make out half of what they were saying the week before. Forgetting that the Eiffel Tower existed. Repeatedly.

No, he'd been able to brush it off for a while. Until about the time he started hearing things, and seeing things he knew hadn't happened. Then he started to freak out. Just a bit.

He had spent the last two weeks in an increasingly frenzied state, as he had googled all his symptoms, tested his newfound language skills, and avoided everyone (read: Emeka) none too subtly. About six days in his headache became a constant, before graduating with honors on day ten to a full-blown migraine. He may have blacked out a few times; it was all a bit of a blur.

To be fair, the first conclusion any rational individual would have jumped to wouldn't exactly be "you're somehow gaining the memories of Thomas Jefferson" so he felt entirely justified in not accounting for the possibility. When he had awoken that morning he hadn’t expected a whole new - old? - life to have slotted behind his eyes as if it had always been there.

Compared to his previous maladies, this should have been nothing. Instead, his memories brought a new kind of frustration. Oh, his favourite TV shows were unaffected; he was still never going to give in to Sam and get a blog. It was the other things. The things he was decidedly not thinking about. At least the migraine was gone. He should get out of bed.

Thomas went down to the store a few hours later in search of some milk for his long overdue coffee. He’d grabbed the carton and joined the queue to pay before realising he hadn’t brought any change. He dug through his pockets, but the smallest amount he had was a ten dollar bill. It had Hamilton’s face on it.

“Jesus Christ," he muttered. How did that smug bastard somehow manage to interfere with his day from beyond the grave? When- _if_ Madison (Emeka, it had to be) got his memories back, they could commiserate him together. Just like old times.

“Hey," he heard from behind him. A man. Thomas turned around.

“What?”

“Can you please-” the man gestured towards the tills.

“Oh, right,” he said, and paid. He tried not to look too gleeful as he watched Hamilton's face get shoved under the counter.

He walked back slowly, taking the long route through the park. It was chilly outside, but he’d at least had the presence of mind to grab his coat before he’d headed out that morning so it wasn’t too bad. It was fine.

Thomas remembered the Declaration, becoming President - that, he had to admit, was pretty amazing. Then getting a second term - even better. He smiled; he'd made quite the legacy for himself.

He remembered Sally Hemings, and the smile faded. The history books had definitely gotten some things right, for all the little attention he'd paid them in school.

Back in his flat, he locked the door, shoved the milk into the fridge and made his way to his bedroom. The curtains were still drawn and the lights off so he kicked off his shoes and got underneath his duvet. It didn’t last; only a minute or so later and he was boiling. He dropped out from the cover and went into the kitchen. Nathan sat on the nearest chair, put his head in his hands, and shakily let out a breath.

They were just _memories_. He didn't have to give into them and become that man again. He had his own life, his own goals, and he wasn't going to just give them up for the sake of this, whatever this was. This obstruction.

He took a few deliberate breaths, hands lowering from his face as he rose to his feet. Nathan wasn't Thomas. Nobody would need to know.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically what happens when you have a neat idea and can't pull it off so strip it down to the smallest essence and still mess it up. I thought it would be interesting if one of the reincarnation fics went into the values dissonance between the founding fathers and their modern day selves (if someone could actually write that, it would be amazing, because I entirely rerouted). In this, Jefferson is supposed to look how he was in real life whilst "Nathan" looks like Daveed Diggs. Also, I'm a Brit so just be glad I managed to write "bills" instead of "notes" :V.


End file.
